Sassie-Sue and her John

****wanted to blog but still groggy, so,,if this doesn't make sense,, take the same pain meds I'm on and it will.*****

Getting home from a long hospital stay should be joyous, EXCEPT you hurt like hell, your house is STILL dirty (little "Medical Cleaning Fairies" be damned, I now cease to believe in you) and the bills stacked on the counter are not even ONE envelope shorter then when you left. Oh and also there is NO food. Since I have no help and can't drive, I have not ventured to go shopping. I can not even walk erect yet. I may be a lot of things but I'll be damned if I am going to the Dixie looking like a Neanderthal (even with FANTASTIC make up and hair, wink, nudge, maybe I would fit in at the Mart if I wore my pink velour pants with "sexy" written on the arse,, hmmm). Thank God the neighbor lady came over and brought me a package of "Pumpkin Peeps" or I would certainly perish (they don't cut very nice with my fine china and cutlery but the orange grit and microscopic chocolate facial features fill me with joy........

(note to my beloved Circus Peanuts,,where the hell were you when I needed you, I am rethinking this whole damn relationship..)
I would normally take this time to talk about THIS particular 12 day hospital stay but there are forks in the house and I might gouge my eyes out. So instead I will share another hospital story with you because you are my captive audience now and can't look away from the screen... Just try,,,, see,,,, you can't ,,,, smooooooch.

You wanna hear about it? Of course you do here I go:

It was a bright and sunny spring day when my gallbladder decided to fall apart (really,,, insert no laughter here). I mean I knew we were having some hard times but I really thought the "Organ Couples Retreat" weekends were working (sure there was that cute Appendix tramp I saw him mackin' on, but whateva' ,, I don't really NEED him anymore anyway!!! And what's HE gonna do with a Appendix,, I mean she was practically bursting out of her seams, just another useless organ in my book,, hook up with a tonsil next time stupid (but I'm not bitter!!??? ((sniffle, snort)), So off to the ER I skipped.

I was all comfy in my cement Serta hospital bed (with my pillow filled with a blimps worth of nonessential air,, why,, really,,why) when they brought my neighbor in. She was obviously being carried in by her eyelashes because there is no other excuse for the bitching that was permeating the air. I was on the other side of my fabric protective privacy wall (for my comfort and so that I would not be disturbed (...WHAT THE HALIBUT!!!!!).

In the next hours I heard the feebly spoken phrase "I gotta go potty " 150 times. I heard the stern yet kind answer "you have a catheter, just go" 175 times. These were the BEST parts of our stay together. I am tolerant and quiet most of the time. My most demanding request was a glop of Jello BETWEEN my diet of broth and water (BTW how the heck CAN you screw up JELLO???? they did!!!!)

I never saw her face as she had it completely covered with blankets when I journeyed to the bathroom. Her snoring rumbled as the only sign of life. She slept all day so that she could entertain the nurses and me all night, she was a giver.
This woman stole my nurses, I'd call she'd steal them for something trivial and before I could peep, they were gone. This happened 1,565 times. I was in hell.

The the day faded into night and her husband John came to visit. Finally, I thought sweetly, there would be love and compassion for this poor woman and possibly some peace for me. This was not the case. The next hours were spent with her fighting with John and him evading the conversations completely. The main source of derision was "Sassie-Sue", her beloved Yorkie mix puppy. I know everything about Sassie, where she likes to pee (apparently it's cute AND important that John takes her there EVERY hour so she does not get an infection). I know where she sleeps and how much she should eat (and that John had BETTER be mixing dry and wet correctly). John did his best to remain silent through EVERY subject. In fact I don't recall John ever once saying something to his wife that did not revolve around the lovely chocolate pudding on her tray (which he later ate and then talked about AGAIN), She continued rambling until John got up in the middle of her sentence and said "bye, see you Tomorrow, Church cooked me dinner" and left. At this point she CONTINUED talking to him. I excused myself politely and explained softly that he had left. There was silence, until this sweet lady said to me coarsely "be quiet, I was CERTAINLY not talking to you!" (and I think she hmmpf'd me but it could have been a cough)

That night and EVERY other night at 1 in the morning my roomie felt the urge for a #2 party (she was very regular, it lasted from about 1 to about 3 in the morning). She wouldn't go in her diaper, she didn't want to get up and sit on a portable potty, and she certainly did not want help to the restroom. Hours of screaming and begging ensued. There would be at least 4 nurses and me involved. We all cheered her on relentlessly. I lay in my bed cheering as well,, just go,,, just go,, you'll feel so much better,,rah rah rah!!!!

When I knew the act was going to begin, I readied myself for the stench. I made my own twist on a Dutch Oven. I had a big bottle of Calgon body spray (Tahition Escape, if you're playing the home game) and liberally sprayed it under my sheets. Quickly I would cover my head and wait. Re-dousing and ducking in numerous times to stake out the ratio of air contamination. One nurse joined me laughing.

And what of Sassie-Sue you ask???? This is the part of the story where you may lose respect for me or love me more.

This poor woman talked in her sleep. She would ramble about everything, Wisconsin cheese, outhouses, sheep, log cabins and other things I could not make out. But mostly she pined for Sassie-Sue and called for John. I was not touching the "John" thing but night after night of the Sassie-Sue sadness wore me down. One night as she cried for her pup I mustered up a few of my best Yorkie puppy yips and shared them nervously. I started low and quietly and then a little louder. This instantly quieted her.

Every night from then on I played the proud role of Sassie-Sue!!

............ and lets not forget, I'll always have my Calgon take me away Dutch Oven experience.

ahhhhh memories,,,,,yip, yip, wag